Ar Saoire
by Irishjeeper
Summary: Murphy convinces Connor that they need to take a much needed vacation from being the Saints.
1. Chapter 1

_I couldn't have done this without my beta cheering me on every step of the way! Thank you so much Goddesslaughs! You're advice, suggestions, encouragement and everyday emails back and forth has kept this going and will until the end! _

"Hey Murph, what the fuck's this?" Connor yelled out to his brother gesturing toward the brochures for a dude ranch that were lying on the kitchen table. 

Murphy, came sauntering into the kitchen fresh from the shower, a towel slung low on his hips, "What the fuck are ye bitchin' about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his twin.

Connor picked up the brochures, fanning them out and displaying them toward his brother.

"Oh those," Murphy said, color rising to his cheeks, "I thought that maybe we could do a little horseback riding, like we used to when we were kids. Like a vacation or something."

Connor didn't know whether to laugh at the hopeful look on his brothers' face or slap it off of him with the brochures. He opted instead for rolling his eyes.

"Murphy, you know we can't do something like this, it's too public."

Connor cringed inwardly at the sharp tone of his voice, Fuck, he hated crushing his brothers' idea, but even worse he hated the look on Murphy's face, the pitiful, sorrowful look that tugged at his heart.

"I'm fuckin' tired of being cooped up in this fuckin' place. We never go anywhere, never do anything but eat sleep and kill. If I don't do something _anything_ I'm going to lose me fuckin' mind, Conn."

Under his brother's stare, Connor felt his resolve weakening. He had never been able to deny Murphy anything when his twin looked like that.

"Maybe we can find a place that will let us rent horses for an hour or something like that," He said, sighing. "Let me see what I can find out, okay?"

Murphy nodded in agreement, but Connor could tell that the comprise wasn't good enough. He would have to work a lot harder than that to appease his twin.

This was the last thing they needed right now. They had been planning tonight's mission for months and he couldn't risk Murphy blowing it because he was thinking about a fucking Dude ranch.

He'd have to find another way to keep his brothers' mind on tonight's mission.

Connor swept Murphy's brochures from the table, making room for his black duffel. Opening the bag and withdrawing his guns, Connor carefully began checking the clip of each one. "Murph we've got more important things ta think about than horses right now," he said, "we need ta focus on the mission."

"Aye, you're right," smirked Murph, "but later you promise we can talk about getting away?" Knowing he was trying his brothers patience further. Murphy knew he was trying his twin's patience, but he wasn't about to let Connor brush the idea aside. He needed this, fuck, they both needed it.

"Sure lil' brother, just promise me that you'll focus tonight?" Connor raised an eyebrow at his brother as he spoke firmly. "We can't afford to be distracted."

There had been rumblings about the ring of rapists for a couple of weeks, young women disappearing and turning up dead and dismembered, a little help, from Smecker, and a little detective work on their own and the Saints had a new mission, one they had gladly accepted.

"Fuck ye." Murphy replied good naturally, sitting down across the table from Connor and opening his own black arsenal bag, "I can handle meself, and I'm not yer fuckin' lil brother."

Reaching inside the duffel, he pulled out his Beretta and systematically began to take the gun apart, checking it over thoroughly and cleaning it with an expert hand.

"So Con, how long do you think we can afford to leave and take a vacation?" he asked, deftly adjusting the sight of the gun.

"For Christ's fucking sake, Murph," growled Connor, "What tha fuck did I just say not five minutes ago? Ye need ta fuckin' focus."

Murph rolled his eyes, irritated, "Aye I'm focused, don't you fucking worry, when tonight comes my heads there 100," the irritation clearly grew in his voice. "The fuckin' mission is hours away, I don't see why we can't discuss this a bit while we prep."

With an exasperated sigh Connor gave his brother a stern look, "Murph if we don't concentrate on what we are doing now, we could fuck up later," he replied, "I, for one, am not willing ta take that chance, are you?"

With an exasperated sigh Connor gave his brother a stern look and replied, "Murph if we don't concentrate on what we are doing now, we could fuck up later, and I for one am not willing ta take that change, are you?"

Murphy wasn't about to take any unnecessary risks, he had been doing this long enough to know better, but the condescending tone in Connors voice irritated him. "Okay fine Connor, from here on out I am totally focused on tonight's mission, but we _will_ talk about getting away for a while." He punctuated his statement with a raised eyebrow. "Jesus Murph, I already told ye yes, now fucking drop it and hand me that clip."

Murphy let out a frustrated sigh and handed over the part, tossing the clip toward his brother with more force than was necessary, before continuing to care for his own guns.

After a few moments of irritated silence he slipped the final piece of his Beretta into place with a satisfying click. "Do you have the file on these guys? I want to know these assholes inside and out, and make sure we didn't miss anything."

Connor reached into his duffel and rooted around for the file that Smecker had given him, pulling it out he paused to light two cigarettes and passed the file to Murphy, along with one of the cigarettes.

Nodding his appreciation, Murphy laid the file out so they could both look at the information, and he started flipping through the pictures included.

"The one with the nautical stars on his both arms is the apparently the leader of the four," Murphy said, tapping the picture with a fingertip.

"He'll die last." added Connor, "I think we can get in and out in under an hour. According ta Smecker these guys always have a huge party on Saturday nights, that's what lures in the girls they rape."

"We'll hit before the crowd gets there." Murph stated matter of factly. "We'll be gone before anybody realizes they're dead."

Connor glanced up from the file and watched his brother's eyes harden as he spoke and noticed Murph worrying that bottom lip, and he knew instantly that his brother was completely focused.

Still tapping the picture in front of him, finally focused on planning their mission, Murphy glanced up from the file and was surprised to see his brother's features relax into a smile. Connor's shoulders began to shake, silently a first, but then he began to laugh in earnest.

Trying not to let on how good it was to see his normally solemn brother laugh, Murphy put on his best annoyed look and huffed at his twin.

"After all that fuckin' talk about being focused, and here ye are laughin' like ye've lost yer fuckin' mind." He scoffed

"I just had a horrible idea. We could use Smecker as bait!" Connor gasped out between breaths.

"Oh fuck, no way man, not a chance in fucking hell," giving into the grin that was pulling at his mouth, Murphy joined in his brothers amusement "Do you remember Da's reaction when he found out who the woman was that he knocked out that night?"

"Jaysus I thought that was one fuck of an ugly women!" Connor whooped, impersonating their father.

"And tha look on Smeckers face when dad said that," another burst of hysterical laughter ripped through both boys as they recalled the agents insulted and horrified face.

Murph laid his head on the table trying to regain some composure, knowing that even looking at his twin would send him off into new peals of laughter. When he had succeeded in calming himself a few moments later, he raised his heads and looked at his brother, "Christ but da was right though, he really was an arse ugly woman."

His comment brought forth another bout of laughter from his twin and Connor got up from the table, picking up the contents of his duffel back and heading toward the other room.

"Hey Con, where you going?" Laughed out Murph.

"If I stay in the kitchen with ya, we'll never fuckin' get anything done, ya eejit." Replied Connor, without a hint of seriousness.

"Okay have it your way, but we have ta discuss our plan of action for tonight eventually." Laughed Murph, shaking his head.

Still grinning he returned his attention back to the weapons before him, reflecting on how good it felt to release some of his pent up energy. Too often they had been forced to be serious for the sake of their calling, and Murphy was glad that they were still able to laugh despite the sober nature of their missions. He was certain that if they hadn't kept their good humor, they would both have died from the stress by now. It was another reason he was hell bent on taking a vacation. He knew they needed it.

The time had come for the boys to be the Saints.

Shutting the door to their apartment, Connor fell into step beside his brother, adjusting the rosary a little more comfortably around his neck. Both brothers were silent as they walked concentrating on the job ahead. The weight of the guns against Connor's sides was comforting and the dark wool of his peacoat protected him from the chilly night air.

He watched Murphy from the corner of his eye, noticing that his twin's gait was ever so slightly off, a result of the blades Connor knew were strapped to Murphy's legs under his jeans. The walk to the hotel didn't take long, and they were able to slip inside quickly, unnoticed amongst the other people there. 

"Murph," Connor hissed in hushed tones, "What bar are we meeting up at after this?" 

"Meet me at Sherlocks by 10:30, you take the two bags back to the apartment, I'll head straight there okay?"

Connor wanted to comment about the unfairness of his having to go back to the apartment while Murphy got a jumpstart at the bar, but he didn't get the chance as he heard the locks to the hotel door clicked open. 

As soon as the Saints heard the lock they became totally focused on evil man, dead man and positioned themselves for the kill. 

Bodies tense and coiled, both brothers waiting for all four men to make an appearance before they sprang, guns blazing, felling the first three men in a hale of gunfire and blood.

As a single unit, they turned to the last victim standing, a man, dark, with nautical stars tattooed on both hairy forearms. The rapists eyes were impossibly wide and Connor couldn't help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction that the man was feeling some of the fear he had forced upon so many innocent girls.

"Get on yer knees," he commanded, pressing the barrel of his gun against the man's head, aware of Murphy mirroring the action beside him.

_Evil Man, Dead Man_. Connor thought, even as his lips were already forming the family prayer in time with his twin.


	2. Chapter 2

(I got a review that wasn't from my wonderful beta/muse/handholder! thank you very much! I'm going to try and post another 2 or 3 chapters today as they are all shorter chapters.)

Murphy made his way to Sherlocks certain that he would drop dead any moment from the amount of adrenaline pumping through is system. He was edgy and nervous even as the soothing sounds of the bar surrounded him. Although the mission had gone smoothly, he could never completely settle until his brother was seated next to him, drink in hand. Murphy checked his watch and realized it was only 8:30. They had already been separated for an hour.

"Hey bartender can I get a Guinness and a shot of Jameson please?" He called pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one.

As his mind wandered back over their mission he unconsciously started to gnaw on his lower lip, replaying every detail of what they had done, making sure that they had left no loose ends behind, that everything would go just as he and Connor had planned.

He was jolted out of his thoughts as the bartender placed his drinks in front of him. Murph took his shot quickly and lit another cigarette, having finished his first in a few hard, nicotine flooded drags.

He checked his watch again and realized only a few moments had passed. Regardless he kept his eyes on the door, waiting for his brother, unable to shake the nervous feeling in the pit of his belly.

"Are you okay?" the voice startled him, and Murphy jerked around to see the bartender standing before him, an empty glass in hand.

Murphy nodded the response to the man before returning his attention to the door, silently cursing himself for making Connor take the bags back to the apartment.

He hated being the one waiting and was sure he'd go through his entire pack of cigarettes before Connor even got there. He was already on his third and it had only been twenty minutes. Sighing, hoping to dull the anxiety with alcohol, he ordered two more shots.

Thirty minutes later, six more shots, two beers and ten cigarettes later, Murphy sensed his brother before he saw him.

Connor felt his brother relax when he placed his hand on his brother's shoulder, feeling the tension there disappear. He groaned inwardly as his brother turned and gave him that impish lopsided grin that clearly meant he was half in the bag.

Fuck, he cursed to himself, he should have made Murph take the bags home, he was always better at the waiting game than Murph was. Although he had to grin when he saw the barkeep place another beer and four shots in the spot next to his brothers.

"Jaysus boyo, I leave you alone for two hours and look what a mess ya are." Connor placed two pack of cigarettes on the bar, pulled two out of the already opened pack and lit them, handing one over to Murph, as was habit. Connor took two of the shots down quickly, sighing as the alcohol burned its way down.

He sat down on the barstool beside his brother and spoke in soft French.

"We did good tonight Murph, quick, easy, clean and well deserved. Relax now, we're done. I'm here, no injuries, and with the money from tonight, we can take some time off."

"Aye I'll drink ta that brother." Slurred out Murph, his grin widening as the last of the tension left his body. "But Jaysus what tha fuck took ya so long?"

"I took the long way home, put our bags away, caught a shower and came here." Replied Connor grinning. It was just like his brother to bitch about how long it took for him to arrive, even in his inebriated state.

"What the fuck is the long way home?" Spat Murphy, eyeing him blearily.

"Don't worry bout it, lets drink up and get tha fuck outta here and home. I'm tired yer trashed ye fucking light weight, and we've got plans to make." Teased Connor, dodging the unsteady swat that was coming toward his head.

"Fuck ye," Murph said, his words slurring, "I'm not a fuckin' lightweight and ye know it, ye fuckin arse. Besides, I had to make the time pass somehow while you prettied yerself up."


	3. Chapter 3

Connor awoke the next morning to his brother's pained groans in the bed next to his. "Jaysus fuckin' Christ Connor why'd you let me drink so much last night?" Grumbled Murphy, "I feel like someone's been usin' me fuckin' head as a drumset"

"Lord's fuckin' name there, Murph, and ye know damn well I didn't let you drink that much, you did it all on your own." Connor barely opened his eyes as he shot an unsympathetic look across the room to where his brother was curled under the blankets holding his head. "Ye fuckin' look like death warmed over."

There was a muffled oath and a balled up sock struck Connor in the eye. _Fucking lucky it didn't hurt, _he thought, _it's entirely too early to beat your arse._

"Murph, will you fuckin' go take a shower already, we got some stuff to discuss when yer done you arse." Connor jibed, knowing his brother was too hung-over to do much about his comment. After a moment he heard the sounds Murphy getting out of bed and the shower creaked to life. Rolling over, Connor buried his face into his pillow, ready to catch a little more sleep while his brother showered, but a loud crash followed by several more jolted him into wakefulness.

"Fuck!" He heard Murphy shout, "Where the fuck is it?"

With a disgruntled sigh, Connor got up and went to the bathroom to find out what the fuck was wrong with his brother. Standing in the doorway to the bathroom he saw the mess his twin had created, the entire contents of their medicine cabinet strewn everywhere, it was no wonder Murphy couldn't find what he was looking for.

"Jaysus Murph what the fuck's yer problem?" Connor asked annoyed, "I'm trying to fuckin' sleep out there and you're in here creating more noise then the running of the bulls in Spain. Fuck man." He felt his patience growing thin, as seemed to be typical of him lately.

"I can't find the fuckin' aspirin, what the fuck did you do with it?" Murphy bitched to his brother.

"What the fuck did _I_ do with it? _Ye're _the one that used it last if I remember correctly."

Murphy saluted him grumpily with his middle finger and Connor rolled his eyes, "You and yer fuckin' hangovers man. Ya know, we aren't getting any younger, ya gotta slow down." There was truth in the statement, but Murphy seemed to ignore it every chance he got forcing Connor to take on the role of adult, and fuck, Connor was beginning to hate it.

"Fuck ye Connor. If you hadn't taken so fuckin' long to get to the fuckin' bar, I wouldn't have drank so much last night." Murphy spat, kicking angrily at the array of bottles on the bathroom floor.

"Murph it is too early to start fightin' with yer arse." Connor stepped a little further into the bathroom and saw the aspirin bottle laying on the floor by the shower. "Here's yer fucking aspirin." He said, picking up the bottle and tossing it at his brother's head, "now take some and have yer fuckin' shower, I'm gonna go make the coffee."

Turning on his heel, Connor walked out of the bathroom, contemplating slamming the door just for spite. But he decided against it, closing the door quietly, he wanted the upcoming discussion with his twin to go well. All the mission shit was finally getting to him and he knew that it was affecting Murphy as well. The tension between them seemed to grow more and more everyday, making them fight over stupid things, snapping at each other with no reason. More and more a little time away became a more tempting idea. Another loud crash and another violent oath from the bathroom made Connor shake his head.

Murphy could blame him for the hangover all he wanted, his twin would feel pretty foolish however when he found out that Connor had taken so long the previous night because he had been with Smecker, carefully arranging the details for a two week long stay at an out of the way dude ranch.

Sitting down at the table with a fresh cup of coffee Connor lit a cigarette and waited for his brother to join him. A few sips later, his twin emerged from the bathroom, looking considerably more human than when he had gone in. Ambling over to the coffee put Murphy poured himself a cup and took a seat next to his brother.

"I cleaned up the mess in the bathroom." Murphy said, taking a deep drink and Connor nodded, offering him the pack of cigarettes, the closest thing to an apology they would ever come.

"Listen, Murph," Connor said, flicking his lighter to life, allowing Murphy to light his smoke. "There's something that I want ye ta know, about last night."

Murphy's eyes widened, and Connor realized his mistake a moment too late as the blood from drained from his twin's face. "Ye got hurt and I missed it. . . ." he whispered, stricken.

"No, no, no," Connor soothed, "nothing like that. . . ."

"Well last night while you were waiting for me I called Smecker," Connor caught the aha look on his brother's face, and smiled, he knew that Murphy knew perfectly well there was no long way home. "Anyway," he continued, "I told him we _needed_ to get away for a while to relax."

"So ye've been planning without me have ya brother?" Laughed Murphy his eyes alight. "Leave it to you to get the planning done all by yer lonesome."

"Aye, well, I am the big brother after all." Connor said, dodging his twin's hand, laughing. "So I talked to Smecker and he mentioned a place in Utah that has horses, biking and offroading. I thought maybe we could do a little bit of everything, we could leave tomorrow and stay for a couple of weeks, if ye still want ta go." Connor watched his brothers' face carefully for a reaction and was relieved to see the delighted excitement in his twin's eyes.

"Really? We can leave tomorrow? That's fuckin' brilliant Conn!" Murphy whooped as he leapt across the table to hug his brother, knocking him over in his chair.

"Ooof, Murph!" Connor playfully slapped at his brothers' backside shoving him away as he did. "Jaysus boyo I didn't think ye'd be this excited about it."

"Shit man we're taking a fuckin' vacation. How the fuck can I not be excited about it?" Chuckled Murphy, getting to his feet, "I'm gonna start packing now, um right after I …oh shit . . ." Murphy leapt up off his brother and ran out the room.

"Murph, hey Murph, you okay? Ye'd better be over that fuckin' hangover by tomorrow." Yelled out Connor after his brother. His only answer was the sound of his brother retching from the bathroom

Fuckin' Murphy and his fuckin' hangovers. Connor laughed to himself and thought that maybe going to breakfast wasn't the best idea after all.

The next day, with their plane tickets and new identities in hand the McManus brothers boarded their flight to Utah the next day.

"Hey Connor what are we doing first when we get there?" Murphy asked as he settled into his seat.

"Smecker said something about meeting up with an old friend of his, Matt something or other, that runs one of the offroad shops there." Connor replied, grinning. "This Matt guy knows all the good spots in Moab, at least for offroading, said he'd loan us a Jeep and show us the ropes."

Murphy returned his brother's grin, turning to look out the window, trying to keep still. He knew it was going to be a long flight and if he allowed even half of the excitement he was feeling leak out, his brother would probably kill him mid-flight, just to shut him up.

He was glad he had come up with the idea and grateful that Connor had gone along with it. This was just what they needed, a chance to get away for a much needed vacation, away from their missions, away from the evil in the world, and away from being the Saints. They could finally be themselves where no one would recognize them. He looked over at his brothers' relaxed features and knew that they both felt the same thing.

"First though lets check in and get settled, find out what there is to do and go from there, okay?" Connor said and Murphy nodded his head in agreement.

The plane began to taxi down the runway and both brothers winced as the changing altitude made their ears pop. Looking out at the perfect blue of the sky, Murphy felt his eyes getting heavy, his normally boundless energy easing into the relaxation he had been so desperately craving.

At least I won't have to listen to Connor bitch about how I won't sit still, he thought, drifting off to sleep.

Several hours later, and a well deserved nap, Murphy awoke to his brother shaking him.

"Murph, wake up man, we're about ta touchdown." Connors voice floated over him and he came out of his slumber easily, rubbing his eyes.


End file.
